


falling in love now (losing control now)

by occasionallywritesthings



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F, Friends With Benefits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-21 12:28:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14284935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/occasionallywritesthings/pseuds/occasionallywritesthings
Summary: So… they have an arrangement. A situation that is stemmed entirely from circumstance and like,things.  At least that’s what Beca tells herself every time she and Stacie stumble into the taller girl’s constantly vacant room every afternoon, a mess of greedy hands and even greedier lips.(aka the steca fwb au that no one asked for but i did it anyway.)





	falling in love now (losing control now)

**Author's Note:**

> it comes with a playlist! listen [here](https://open.spotify.com/user/z8gb7aglfvhhzvvd5b62kfx9d/playlist/0F3gYzhWlx4SyYHpJxmp65)!

It’s another long day of practice after an even longer day of classes. Beca has no idea how Aubrey and Chloe manage to do it with a smile on their face – correction: a smile on Chloe’s, a _scowl_ on Aubrey’s.  


For all of the effort the new recruits seem to be trying to put in, Aubrey is not satisfied, and she tops off a tough rehearsal by berating all of them, taking about how they should take time out of the day to think about ways they could be more effective during practice before turning on her heel and strutting off.

Chloe is kinder. She takes a second to flash them all an apologetic smile before running after Aubrey. The tall blonde normally leaves last – it’s the respectable thing to do as a leader – but today, they apparently have driven her so up the wall, she has to storm the fuck out.

“She thinks we still have time in our day to think about stuff we did wrong? Yeah right,” Amy says once Chloe is out of the building.

Beca is hunched over one of the seats, the heels Aubrey makes them wear still on her feet – which kill, by the way.

“Miss Aubrey in here talking about taking time out of our day to think about our mistakes. Girl, I barely got _sleep_. Sheesh.” Cynthia Rose shakes her head.

Jessica and Ashley makes sounds of agreement. Lilly nods in solidarity.

“God, I know,” Stacie groans. “Like, I barely have time to hook-up.”

There’s a beat of people groaning at Stacie’s two-cents.

Beca just rolls her eyes, a fond smirk on her face.

With a sigh, she finally sits up and begins to pull the heels off of her feet. The rest of them see her and begin to follow suit, either pulling them off or toeing them off if they don’t have socks on their feet like Beca, Ashley, and a couple of other people do.

“Do y’all wanna get something to eat? I’ll sacrifice some shower time for a good burger right about now.”

Jessica nods excitedly. Ashley offers a barely-there nod. Lilly just seems content to go with whatever happens.

“Oh, burger? Count me in. Have I told you guys once that I—”

Amy goes on but Beca tunes out. It’s probably some weirdly unrealistic story that turns out to be true about something she did once in Australia involving alligators or dingos, but she really doesn’t care. Not right now. Right now, she just wants to get home, get showered, and pass out.

They keep their heels, sling their bags out of their shoulders, and Beca makes a beeline for the large double doors Aubrey and Chloe exited through earlier.

She just manages to make it out of the doors when she feels someone come up behind her.

“Where are you off to, Speedy Gonzalez?”

Beca scoffs lightly at the joke, tugging her bag up higher over her shoulder. As fast as she manages to walk, it’s nothing for Stacie. She could walk ten steps and the tall girl could make that distance in _three_. Like, okay, that’s probably an exaggeration but Stacie’s _tall_. And her legs are _long_.

“Home. I seriously just want to get out of here.”

“You are out,” Stacie makes known.

“Like away. From this vicinity. Whatever. I just want to be in my room.”

Where her roommate from Hell will glare holes into the back of her head for existing. But you know what? She’ll probably be so passed out that it won’t even matter.

“What do you do when you’re in your room?” Stacie asks curiously.

Beca notices that they’re walking in the same direction now. Well, obviously, since Stacie’s been right beside her since she’s stepped out of the warehouse. It’s still weird though, like she hope Stacie doesn’t remain beside her the entire trek home.

“I don’t know, sleep?” Beca shares. Like, what else would she be doing after a grueling practice? She also mixes but like, it’s not like Stacie would care much about that.

“That’s it?”

“Obviously, other things too but like right now, all I want to do is sleep,” Beca clarifies, her tone a little irritated as she walks faster.

Stacie only seems to become amused by this behavior.

“You’re cute,” she comments.

It makes Beca glower.

“Cute? Dude, what the fuck?” Her head shakes. “Also, why are you following me?” She adds.

“I’m not following. I go home this way too, dummy,” Stacie counters naturally, all long strides and dark hair that flows gently behind her as she steps.

Beca just huffs, pulls the straps of her backpack closer, and keeps her sights straight-ahead.

* * *

They go without talking for the rest of the walk to Baker Hall. And when Beca begins climbing up the steps to the building and notices Stacie is climbing them too, she stops. Stacie, already a few steps above her, just continues on and walks inside.

Stacie… lives in Baker Hall too?

Beca shakes her head and resumes walking up the steps.

She gets to the elevators right as it dings upon arrival. Stacie walks in, and after shrugging her backpack higher up on her shoulder, Beca follows after her with a sigh.

“We meet again, stalker.”

“I was literally outside with you.”

The doors close.

“Yeah, slowpoke, what happened?”

“I was just… I didn’t know you lived here too.”

Beca presses her floor. She notices Stacie’s two floors below her.

“Most freshmen do,” Stacie points out casually with a shrug, her nail file out. “You should come by and hang sometime. We’ll do things other than sleep.”

Beca narrows her eyes in confusion. Was that like… a euphemism or something?

Stacie seems to get what Beca’s thinking and roll her eyes. “Like, other things, _dork_. Movies, nails, fucking board games, stuff like that,” she lists, sliding the file against her nails.

“Yeah, I don’t really do… any of those things.”

“What do you do then?” Stacie asks, her interest peaked enough to stop filing her nails.

“Music?” Beca offers half-heartedly. Why does this elevator seem to take forever?

“Specific,” Stacie teases with a tilt of her head.

Beca just rolls her eyes.

“Well, you’ll tell me soon enough,” Stacie decides as they arrive on her floor. “Catch you later, _Broody_.” The nickname rolls off of her tongue in a tone that’s entirely too suggestive.

Beca simply scoffs lightly, a small smirk on her lips as Stacie moves past her to get off. Then in a series of actions she doesn’t expect from Stacie (because she assumes all interaction has ended now that they no longer share the same space), the tall girl turns around and throws a wink at Beca right before the doors close.

Beca frowns.

What the fuck was that?

* * *

Now that it’s common knowledge to the both of them that they reside in the same building, Stacie doesn’t seem to let her forget it. After rehearsals, she’s quick to catch up to Beca and walk beside her all the way home.

_Going back? I’ll join._

_Hey, Broody._

_Leaving without me, Mitchell?_

_Bitch, wait up._

It’s kind of annoying because Beca prefers to be alone with her thoughts or music after an exhausting rehearsal and a couple of hours of being yelled at by Aubrey, but just because Stacie’s there doesn’t mean Stacie is always _there_ … if that makes sense.

After catching up with Beca, she’d sometimes just whip out her phone and start texting, or other times she’ll take out this powder pink planner and look through it.

When Beca doesn’t talk the whole way home, Stacie doesn’t mind.

When Beca puts her headphones on after they exchange greetings, Stacie doesn’t mind either.

They both go about their own business and neither of them feel the need to fill in the space with useless banter.

So Beca doesn’t mind that Stacie walks home with her.

* * *

It’s a rare occurrence – the first of what they hope is many – but only Chloe leads them at practice today, informing them all that Aubrey regretfully can’t make it because her mother is in town and they have a gathering to attend. A half-hearted and very sarcastic “Oh, poop. Really?” leaves Beca. Chloe promises them all however that Aubrey has written out a _very_ detailed list for all of them to go through for the day and that she will be checking in with a FaceTime call before rehearsals end.

It makes Beca roll her eyes, but she has to give it to Aubrey: she’s committed.

They go through the motions as usual for practice and get some stuff down. It’s not more or less productive than when Aubrey is around but they’re all definitely less on edge, and when they finish for the day, Beca doesn’t feel winded or unnecessarily stressed.

“Hey, B!”

Beca frowns. She’s never been called ‘B’ by anyone before but she has a feeling that’s directed at her, especially since that’s Stacie’s voice and she has a knack for giving Beca nicknames. She turns around and finds Stacie is grinning, walking up to her.

“Hey, are you doing anything later today?”

“Like how far later?”

“Like I don’t know, 9?”

“I’ll be dead by then.”

Stacie rolls her eyes at Beca’s dramatics.

“There’s a party. You should come. I think Cynthia Rose and Chloe are also coming.”

Beca twists her face at the mention of a party. “Yeah, that’s not really my _thing_ , so… thanks, but I’m probably gonna pass.” She winks with a click of her tongue.

Stacie gives her a pouty look.

“Bitch, come _on_. It’ll be _fun_. Plus, I literally have no idea what you do besides sleep, which is probably fake and you just don’t want to tell me, so you need to drink, get loose, and tell me all of your secrets.” She shimmies a little provocatively before straightening her posture and beaming.

Beca blinks once slowly.

“Literally none of those things are helping your case getting me to attend this party but points for effort.”

She turns around and begins walking. Stacie huffs. She _keeps_ walking.

“I’ll get you to come! I know where you live!”

“No you don’t!”

“I know your floor!”

“Have fun figuring out what room!”

“I have my ways!”

“I can’t hear you!”

* * *

At 8:45 on the dot, Beca hears a knock on the door. She assumes it’s for Kimmy Jin because she knows _literally no one_ , but when she looks at Kimmy Jin and Kimmy Jin just stares back at her before turning away to resume work on her essay, Beca frowns.

“Dude, aren’t you going to get that?”

“I’m not expecting anybody,” Kimmy replies in her usual monotone.

There’s another knock.

Beca rolls her eyes, lowering the screen of her laptop before she gets up and walks the distance to the door. When she pulls it open, she should have known she’d Stacie see on the other side.

Except it’s not just Stacie.

It’s also Chloe. And Jessica. And Ashley. And Cynthia Rose.

“What’s… going on?”

Chloe squeals in excitement before stepping forward and holding Beca by the wrists. “Get ready!”

“Get ready? What? What do you mean ‘get ready’? How do you guys know where I _live_?”

Chloe, Ashley, Jessica, and Cynthia Rose shuffle past her and pile on what they assume is her bed. (It is.) She’s left looking at Stacie, dressed in the shortest skirt and a top that’s _so_ not her size with the way it clings to her body like a second skin.

“Told you I have my ways,” is all Stacie says as she moves past Beca and winks.

* * *

Let it be known that Beca only agrees to get dressed and leave because five other girls who squeal and talk over each other only make Beca’s roommate want to murder her more. And since she still has a long way to go before the year is over, she’s trying to keep her chances of getting murdered in the middle of the night at the single digits.

“I can’t believe I’m here,” Beca says when they approach the party’s location.

A _frat_ house.

There’s someone with a donut floatie on the roof wearing goggles and a snorkel. Before Beca can even comment on that, someone crashes through the screen door and rolls onto the porch.

What the fuck.

“I’m going home—”

Stacie catches Beca’s arm and turns her back around calmly. “Now, now, Mitch. You’re not pussying out just yet are you? We haven’t even made it in yet.”

Stacie’s voice drips with something Beca can’t place. It sounds like… hunger? She stares at the house like she wants it, that’s for sure. Beca has a feeling Stacie’s out on a ‘hunt’ tonight on top of trying to weasel Beca into revealing things about herself. Yuck.

Chloe scrunches her face at Beca before looping her arm around hers. “It’ll be fun. Come on.”

They begin to walk, forcing Beca forward with them.

This must be what being marched to your death feels like.

* * *

“I literally want to kill myself.”

All around her, people are singing ‘Replay’ by Iyaz and she wants to _die_.

In front of her, Ashley is like, break dancing or some shit. Jessica is jumping up and down. Cynthia Rose is dancing with some chick. Chloe is literally grinding her ass against some guy. (Is this the same guy she was in the shower with?)

Stacie returns from where she’s gone to get another drink. She meets eyes with Beca and smirks, taking a sip from her solo cup.

Beca has finished hers but she hasn’t gone to refill because she’s too scared to _move_. She feels like she’s going to be swallowed by this sea of gyrating bodies if she tries to make her way through it, and she’s not about to have ‘trampled by horny college students’ be a line in her obituary.

“I literally want to die,” she says out loud to Stacie so her voice can be heard over the music.

“Don’t,” Stacie says back just as loud. “You haven’t told me anything yet!”

Beca rolls her eyes and looks away, her sights land on Chloe, who is basically her own party right now.

“Chloe’s hot, right?” She hears Stacie, who is now right beside her. They don’t need to shout which is nice, but also this topic of conversation? Not getting into it.

“We’re not talking about this.”

“She told me you saw her naked.”

Her face gets hot.

“What? She came into _my_ shower—”

“She came in your shower?!”

Her eyes widen and she rolls them before correcting herself, “she _walked_ into my shower. _Christ_.”

She’s exasperated. And flustered. Like, why are these _things_ that are happening right now? She just wants to _leave_.

“So does Chloe keep it tight? I bet she does. Like, total honesty, she’s a snack.”

“What? I don’t even know what you’re—” Beca grunts. “I will literally do anything to not be here right now.”

“Anything?”

“Yes, anything. Christ—“

Right then, the guy wearing a floatie on the roof earlier bumps into her as he makes his way through. Beca clenches her jaw to keep herself at bay. She’s thankful her cup is empty because it would have for sure spilled if there was something in it and she would be less calm than she was right now if any of what she was wearing got wet.

“Okay,” Stacie says.

“What?”

She downs her drink, takes Beca’s empty cup, and passes both of them to some random stranger walking by – who looks totally confused for a second but just shrugs before moseying on.

Stacie takes her hand and begins leading her out.

Wait, it’s that easy?

* * *

“Dude, where are we going?” Beca asks once they’re out of the house, slipping her hand out of Stacie’s because like, unnecessary and also uncalled-for.

Stacie doesn’t even blink.

“Wherever, I don’t mind.”

She undoes the cap of a bottle of tequila she swiped out of the hands of some unsuspecting fratbro on their way out. She takes a swig.

“There,” she decides, nodding her head somewhere forward.

Okay, ‘there’ could mean anywhere. Beca decides to follow after Stacie even if she’s technically free to go her own way. The leggy brunette was getting pretty liberal with that bottle, and while she doesn’t necessarily care what Stacie does with her life, she’s not about to let her get shitfaced this late out in the fucking open and like, pass out somewhere.

She takes the bottle from Stacie and Stacie lets her.

“Ugh, I wish I had limes.” Her face is pinched as she waits for the burn to subside.

Beca rolls her eyes.

* * *

They end up at the Greek Theater where the Acapella people held Hood Night. It’s not too far from Baker Hall, so it won’t be a pain in the ass making the trip home either.

Stacie drapes herself across the long stone bench and Beca sits beside her, holding the bottle. The sips Stacie took directly from it have slowly caught up to her so she’s a little… tipsy.

Beca looks around with a scrunched up face. She’s just slightly uncomfortable and maybe a little cold. It rained earlier today, so everything seems wet even if it’s dry now. She doesn’t like that. She just wants to be home.

“So, what do you do?” Stacie’s voice brings her out of her thoughts.

“Hm?”

“In your room? Besides sleep, obviously,” she adds, so Beca can’t pull a smartass move and dodge it.

Beca just stares at her. Stacie notes her lack of response and looks up from where she’s lying on the bench.

“You said you’d do ‘literally anything’ to get out of the party. Well, ‘literally anything’ means talking to me and being cooperative at that,” Stacie explains with a smirk.

“I can’t believe I fell for that,” Beca mutters before letting out a sigh and replying. “I mix.”

“Mix? Like, alcohol?”

“No, dude, like _music_. Mash-ups and remixes. Shit like that.”

“Ooooh,” Stacie noises in interest. Then her hand goes up and she wiggles her fingers around.

“What?”

“Bottle.”

“No.”

She finally shifts around so she’s lying on her side now and can more comfortably look at Beca.

Beca just undoes the cap and takes a swig of it, not breaking eye contact with Stacie. It makes Stacie smile and then she’s laughing a little.

“Eugh.” Beca hates tequila. “You chose the worst thing to swipe.”

Stacie sits now, scooting closer to Beca, before she nicks the bottle. “Alcohol is alcohol.” She lifts it up to her lips and drinks.

* * *

She and Stacie get maybe three more sips between the both of them before Stacie is caving and saying she wants to go to her room for some mixers.

Beca doesn’t normally drink straight shots directly out of the bottle so she’s quickly agreeing. Also, she doesn’t want to be out in the open like this. She may not give a fuck about college, but her dad definitely won’t let her go off to L.A. after this year finishes if she’s caught with a fucking bottle of tequila in the middle of fucking campus.

* * *

“You know we’re going to have to find a way to slip this past people when we walk in, right?” Beca points out.

They stop by a near tree to scout the crowd that loiters in the lobby. Stacie chews on her lip thoughtfully before throwing a quick glance at Beca.

“Take off your jacket and wrap it around the bottle. Make it look caj.”

It’s not the greatest idea but it’s the only one they’ve got, so Beca passes the bottle to Stacie momentarily so she can shrug out of her jacket and then they hide the bottle in it so they can walk past the lobby of their residence without attracting much attention.

_Just a bunched up jacket and two chicks making their way home, nerds. Nothing to see here._

They call for the elevator and it dings soon enough. They quickly go in.

Stacie presses her floor and Beca sighs, leaning against the wall.

“Exciting?”

“Not really.”

Stacie rolls her eyes and they make their way out. They walk and walk, and Beca almost wants to ask if Stacie forgot what room she’s in, but her room turns out to be the second to the last one on the left side of the hall.

“Is your roommate home?”

Stacie scoffs at that.

“If she is, I’d be surprised.” She twists the door open and pushes forward.

One half of the room is kind of Boho designed, and the other looks like Avril Lavigne posters threw up all over it.

“Your roommate’s a big Avril fan?”

Stacie just shrugs a little in response before dipping down to open her mini fridge. She takes out a carton of apple juice.

“Apple juice? Really?”

“Bitch, have you never tried apple juice and tequila? You haven’t lived.”

* * *

They end up on Stacie’s bed, sitting under twinkle lights (because of course Stacie is the kind of chick that decorates the area around her bed with twinkle lights), drinking and talking about whatever it is Stacie wants Beca to talk about.

“So… your dad will pay for you to move to L.A. if you get through a year of college?”

“ _Help_ pay. And yeah. But I have to commit to the Bellas thing, though. And like, _try_.” Beca makes a face at the word before drinking from her cup.

She’s about two glasses in. To her surprise, this shit is _actually_ good. Stacie said its better with a dash of lime though, and Beca believes her. Unfortunately, Stacie doesn’t keep limes on hand in her mini fridge.

“What about you? What do you take actually?” Beca queries before taking another sip.

Stacie goes into talking about her major and it takes Beca a minute to comprehend that she’s talking about Biological Engineering because that’s _actually_ what she’s taking.

“Wait, _what_? _You_ take Biological Engineering?”

“Wow, rude.” But she’s not actually offended judging from the amused look on her face.

“No, I just meant like, that’s pretty cool, dude.” Beca is serious. She doesn’t think she’s ever met anyone smart enough to actually tackle something like that. Maybe she’s just a little tipsy but she’s really impressed that Stacie is pursuing bioengineering.

“So are you going to like… build a fake arm?”

Stacie cracks up then.

* * *

Beca ends up learning a lot about Stacie – how she’s actually deeper than some chick that just likes cuticle care, sex, and the E Network. Stacie _knows_ shit. Like, she’s _smart_. And she _studies_. Beca sees that she has like this whole system of notecards on the wall above her desk to remind her of things that Beca can’t even begin to understand. And there’s a calendar and a week planner whiteboard on there too. That’s how you know someone’s got there shit together school-wise.

As far as conversation goes, Beca doesn’t hate talking to Stacie. It’s actually pretty easy, and even if Stacie comes off like this bubblegum hot chick, she actually has fascinating interests. (Yeah, Beca knows it’s so shallow of her to judge Stacie like that, but she owns up to it – completely her bad for not giving Stacie the benefit of the doubt.)

They’ve gone from talking about school, to hobbies, and now they’ve made their way to music taste.

“Oh, bitch, don’t even get me _started_ —” Stacie sits up with her mouth agape. “That’s _not_ the sexiest song.”

Yes, they’ve gotten into ‘songs you’d fuck to’ territory. They’ve done a _number_ on this bottle of tequila and Beca is pleasantly drunk, so she genuinely participates when Stacie starts talking about songs that ‘belong in a sexy times playlist’.

“Dude, I hate how mainstream it is, but that song wins,” Beca argues with a shrug.

“No it does _not_.”

Stacie is getting up and strides to where her speakers reside. Beca thinks it’s funny how this is the most affronted she’s been all night with all of the shit they’ve been talking about. She watches Stacie hook her phone up to it before scrolling through her music and selecting a song.

The opening beats of a song she swears she’s heard before but can’t place begins to play.

  


_The mood is set (ah ah)_  
_So you already know what’s next_

  


Beca recognizes this song now.

Stacie turns slowly. When she faces Beca again, there’s a proud smirk on her lips.

  


_No teasing, you’ve waited long enough_  
_Go deep, I’mma throw it at you, can’t catch it_  
_Don’t hold back, you know **I like it rough**_

  


“You have a thing for Rihanna, don’t you?”

“You don’t?”

Stacie’s hips begin to swing to the music casually.

If Beca’s eyes fall to follow the movement, she’s quickly masking it by taking another sip of her drink. She swallows before voicing her reply.

“I didn’t I say I didn’t.”

  


_No heels, no shirt, no skirt_  
_All I’m in is just skin_  
_No jeans, take ‘em off, wanna feel your skin_

  


Stacie begins to make her way back to Beca. Her pace is _slow_ , almost sauntering with the languid way she moves. The wheels turn in Beca’s head and she feels like she should mutter some excuse about how she should probably leave now because everything about the situation screams ‘don’t cross this line’.

But she doesn’t.

She watches.

Stacie probably shouldn’t be climbing over the bed directly where Beca is sitting either.

But she does.

Beca presses her back more fully against the wall Stacie’s bed is pushed against to have something cold and solid grounding her. Stacie now sits on her knees, eyeing her standoff-ish guest.

“What?” She decides to ask, because she feels a little uneasy under the weight of Stacie’s gaze like that. And it taps her out of her daze a little bit, having the sound of something else filling the room besides Rihanna’s voice and slow, suggestive beats.

“This song really does it for me,” Stacie shares.

“I can tell. Do you maybe want to change it and not like, mount your bed like this?”

The corner of Stacie’s lips curve upwards a little more.

“What?” Beca asks again, forcing her voice to sound irritated.

“I have a really bad idea.”

Beca sees the way Stacie’s fingers play with the end of her shirt. She squares her jaw and tries not to gawk, tearing her gaze away to look at Stacie’s eyes instead – which is a terrible decision because Stacie is staring her down like… god, she doesn’t even want to get into it.

“I don’t really know what you want me to say to that,” she decides to say.

Beca steels herself. Her resolve is _not_ going to break just because Stacie is _staring_ at her.

“Do you want it to stay a bad idea?”

Stacie scoots a knee forward.

Beca swallows and the hand that’s resting on the bed curls around the sheets.

“You’re drunk,” Beca deflects, hoping it steers them away from this topic they seem to be broaching.

“Not really… You?”

“Not as much anymore,” Beca admits, though sheepishly.

“Hm.”

“Yeah.”

Stacie is in front of Beca now and she lowers herself so she sits on her legs instead of being on her knees.

“Do you want it to stay a bad idea?” Stacie repeats again. Her fingers lift her shirt just a bit.

Beca can’t stop looking at the sliver of skin that’s revealed. When she looks away from it, Stacie’s face is now _inches_ from hers.

“Do you?”

_Fuck._

Beca looks to her left and sees the bottle of tequila that’s three-quarters finished. She looks to her right and _knows_ the door is locked. She has an excuse to put this on to her left and no chance of being interrupted to her right. When she looks in front of her and sees Stacie’s hungry eyes and teeth that drag slowly along her glistening lower lip, she registers that she has a terrible but very inviting mistake right in front of her.

“This is a bad idea,” Beca admits, but she’s leaning closer.

“It kind of is,” Stacie agrees, but she’s waiting for Beca to close the distance between them.

They’re both fucking idiots for doing this without weighing the cons a little more but fuck it, they’re drunk.

(Sort of, anyway.)

* * *

“Fuck.”

They fall backwards on Stacie’s bed, arm to arm.

“Did we really just do that?” Beca wonders out loud, still a little breathless.

“ _Yup_.” Stacie pops the ‘p’. She’s giddy and grinning, and there’s a light flush to her cheeks.

Beca presses the heel of her hand to her forehead. “ _Shit_.”

She’s making a move to sit up and she swings her legs off of the bed. The sheet that covers her falls down and she rolls her eyes before pulling it back up, holding it in place by trapping it under her arms.

“Jesus, B. Relax.”

“Why are you so calm right now? Like, you literally look like you just got shot by a tranq’ dart.”

“It’s called a post-coitus high, Beca. Look it up.”

“Coitus? Really? _Coitus_? You’re just using that word to piss me off.”

“Yeah, I am,” Stacie admits with a giggle. Then she sits up. “Hey.” Her hand comes up to rest on Beca’s arm, her fingers ghosting across the pale skin. “Relax. It doesn’t have to mean anything, right?”

“It _doesn’t_ ,” Beca is quick to make known, a little unsure as to why she feels so defensive.

“Right? _So_.” Stacie presses her lips to the back of Beca’s shoulder. “Just calm down.” Her lips trail across the skin of her back. Beca feels Stacie move her hair out of the way before feeling her lips press against the base of her neck. “It’s just a little fun,” she whispers, her breath warm against Beca.

She hates that she feels chills run down her body. Beca shrugs a little, moving herself in a way that shakes Stacie off. She hears Stacie ‘tsk’ behind her before she’s being pulled back in a quick motion and Stacie’s lips are on hers again.

(She doesn’t like the way her body sinks into it after a few seconds.)

“Hashtag don’t think, Mitch. It’s unnecessary stress,” Stacie says when she breaks their kiss.

“That sounds like the hashtag of someone who’s about to roofie me.”

Stacie just chuckles. Beca rolls her eyes and sits up again, pushing off of the bed to stand instead of sitting in place like before. She doesn’t need Stacie swaying her with her suggestive wiles again.

“Well, this has been _fun_ , but I should probably head back.” Beca’s voice drips with slight sardonicism, holding the sheet to her body as she leans down to pick up her clothes that was so recklessly removed and carelessly discarded when she and Stacie—

Wait, no. You know what, nope. Not getting into that.

The room is mostly quiet with the exception of Beca shuffling around, snatching her clothes off of the floor.

“Where the fuck is my other sock?” She grumbles.

“Here.”

Stacie takes it from where it was caught between the nightstand and the bed and chucks it at Beca. Beca lifts her right hand quickly to catch it before it flies off too far. Stacie comments an impressed ‘nice’ before shifting her attention to her phone.

When Beca is done getting dressed and looking somewhat presentable, she heads for the door without looking behind her. She unlocks it, her hand about to twist the knob when she hears Stacie’s voice.

“See you tomorrow, right?” She says from the bed.

She finally looks over her shoulder to glance at Stacie, who sits with the sheets bunched around her waist, holding her phone in her hands casually. It takes a lot more of her focus than she cares to admit to ensure her eyes stay on Stacie’s face and not her fucking _boobs_.

“Tomorrow?” Beca frowns.

“Practice, dude. Duh.”

“Right.”

Stacie is typing out a quick text on her phone before she looks up again and grins. “Great. See ya.”

Beca just rolls her eyes before pulling the door open and heading out.

* * *

Before Beca goes to sleep, she lies staring at the ceiling, trying to understand the fact that not thirty minutes ago she was _naked_ in Stacie Conrad’s room before she very _casually_ got dressed and they very _casuall_ y had a quick conversation before she left for her own room. She doesn’t let herself think about what happened before she was collecting her clothes and leaving. She doesn’t want to risk replaying what happened while she sleeps because then she’ll have to admit herself that not only did she sleep with Stacie Conrad but also had a sex dream about her.

(Would it count as a dream if it was more of a recollection?)

* * *

When Beca wakes up, she manages to go fifteen minutes before her brain reminds her that she and Stacie fucked last night. It makes her grumble before she’s tugging her shower caddy out of her closet a little too roughly and shutting the door behind her with a loud slam that for sure confuses the hell out of Kimmy Jin.

As she goes through her day, she thinks it’ll be a lot better because she’ll have to sit and listen. All sorts of educational droning will fill up the spaces in her head. But she’s _wrong_. She sits in her Intro to Philosophy class with her fingers pressed to her temples because the truth of what she did last night resonates so clearly in her mind, she wonders if—

Her phone buzzes obnoxiously in her pocket, disrupting thoughts. Well, she wouldn’t hate a distraction right now…

She takes it out and because the universe hates her, of course it’s Stacie that has just sent her a text.

  


**Stacie:** Hey, did you get up okay?  
**Beca:** yeah… why?  
**Stacie:** Idk we finished late last night

  


Beca wants to groan. She settles for a huffy breath.

  


**Beca:** i lived  
**Beca:** it’s not like i’ve never slept late before

  


She’s a master at dodging truths.

  


**Stacie:** That’s not all you did last night ;)

  


And apparently Stacie is a master at making her feel ridiculous.

Her cheeks are heating up. She’s probably pink. Beca ducks her head. God, she fucking hates Stacie right now.

  


**Beca:** yeah i went to a party too  
**Beca:** it was a real life-changing experience (eyeroll emoji)  
**Stacie:** You’re no fun :P

  


It takes a second but then:

  


**Stacie:** Unless you’re naked

  


Beca’s phone nearly slips out of her hands. Then it’s buzzing again and again because Stacie gives no fucks about double, triple, or whatever-the-fuck-amount texting.

  


**Stacie:** Anyway I just wanted to say it was good shit  
**Stacie:** Like we were drunk but we weren’t THAT drunk  
**Stacie:** I had a good time (rock and roll sign emoji)

  


Beca just wants to get this conversation over with.

  


**Beca:** glad i could be of service ttyl class

  


She puts her phone face down, hoping that it’ll somehow mean Stacie won’t text her again. But of course, Stacie does. But just once. Her phone buzzes just once. Beca picks it up to see what the text reads.

  


**Stacie:** Good, be a good girl and pay attention (kiss mark emoji)

  


Beca slaps her phone down before she knows it and it startles the guy who’s asleep beside her awake. She tries to seem inconspicuous as he looks around all groggy and half-conscious.

God, she wants to kill Stacie.

* * *

She kind of dreads going to rehearsal for a whole new reason now but she makes herself go anyway because 1) she’s not a fucking pussy and 2) Aubrey or Chloe are just going to end up texting her a shit ton to notify her about practice until she attends, so actually making her way there is the path of least resistance.

When she walks in, Stacie has her back to her, going through her gym bag, so she makes the rest of the way inside quickly, dropping her backpack somewhere on the floor before making a beeline to stand beside Amy, with Jessica on her other side. She needs all of the people she can get between her and Stacie right now.

* * *

So, rehearsals don’t go as bad as she thinks it’ll be. In fact, it’s not that bad at all. They go through all of Aubrey’s exercises like normal, and Stacie doesn’t pay more or less attention to her than she usually would. They interact normally. Which is nice. It’s great. Beca has no idea why she was overthinking this.

Now that they’re done though, she’s quick to want to get home, dashing out the doors. But then she remembers…

“Hey, Speedy Gonzales.”

_Back to square one._

“Hey, Stace,” she replies a little flatly, sighing. She doesn’t stop walking. The faster she gets to Baker Hall, the sooner she can retreat to her own space.

“Were you trying to leave without me?”

“You know me, wouldn’t dream of it,” she counters just as monotone as before.

Stacie only seems amused by her behavior. Anyone else would be offended. Why wasn’t Stacie anyone else right now?

She feels Stacie hip check her just lightly before her arm hooks over Beca’s shoulders.

“Are you grumpy because I know what you look like naked?” Stacie teases.

“Jesus Christ, dude, oh my god, you don’t—” She grumbles unintelligibly. “You don’t have to say it out _loud_.”

“What? That we had sex?”

“YES. Ugh. I. _God_.” She shrugs out of Stacie’s grasp and stomps ahead.

“Sheesh, Bec, I didn’t take you for the shy type.”

“I’m not—” She groans. “I’m not _shy_. I just—why do we need to talk about it? Like _out loud_? Where there’s people? I just—” She shakes her head and keeps moving on.

Stacie snorts, clearly having a grand time with whatever this was.

“What, like do you regret it?” She ask from a few steps behind her.

Beca _thinks_ she hears a hint of offense for the first time ever in Stacie’s voice but she’s probably just imagining it from the context of the sentence.

“What? No. I just like, not everyone feels the need to talk about it. Like we fucked, can we move on?”

Stacie shrugs, seemingly satisfied with that explanation. “Alright.” She resumes her walking.

With a sigh, Beca does too. They fall into step with each other. She thinks that’s where it’s going to end but of course, Stacie opens her mouth because _of course_ the universe won’t let her have anything today.

“For what it’s worth, I really enjoyed it. Like, you have nice tits. Like I could def tell from auditions when you were doing that cup thing because that shirt’s cut was _real low_ , honey, but last night just confirmed my suspicions and I’m real proud.”

“You are the literal worst,” is all Beca can manage to say at this point.

“You love it.”

* * *

When they get to Baker Hall and step into the elevator, they’re riding up with some dude who looks like he was bitchslapped by the flu. Beca stays in her corner towards the back, keeping to herself. Stacie stands by the buttons, filing her nails. Sick Guy leans against the wall opposite the doors, lifting the sleeve of his shirt up to wipe against his nose every 5 seconds. Beca scrunches her nose at how she thinks he _actually_ looks kind of green.

She huffs quietly as the floors go by. Stacie’s eyes shift from the small screen that indicates the floor number and her nails. (Beca tries not to think about how she knows where those hands have been.)

God, she just really wants to not be thinking about last night or Stacie.

Sick Guy gets off first – thank God – but it leaves the both of them to go through 8 more floors… _alone_.

Arms crossed, Beca just tries to keep her eyes on the ground, staring at the cheap carpet that covers the square shape of the elevator.

“We could do it again, you know.”

Beca frowns, looking up then.

“What?”

“What happened last night. We could do it again.”

Beca blinks. “I… What… Why—“

“I was thinking and like, it’ll totally be more practical time-wise.”

Beca blinks _again_.

“I mean, I barely have time to pull all of the fun shit I used to like dragging it out with guys before we hook up. On top of practice and classes and all that. So like, if I just had to text _you_ every time I felt horny then—“

“Dude, _what_. Stop talking. Why are you—”

“No, I’m totally seriously, like—”

They arrive on Stacie’s floor. Stacie holds the ‘open’ button so they remain suspended there.

“Like, we could have an _arrangement_ ,” she finally decides, like she’s come up with this great idea.

“ _Arrangement?_ Did you fall on your head before I got to practice? Dude, no. It was like a one-time thing, forget it—“

“Beca, I’m serious, come on.” Stacie intercepts Beca’s arm as it reaches out to close the elevator doors, forcing her to pay attention. “Like, _I_ need someone to hook up with on the daily – _basically_.”

Beca rolls her eyes.

“And _you_ clearly can’t stop thinking about it, so like, why don’t we both just kill two birds with one stone?”

“What? No! How do you even know I can’t stop thinking about it, I’m not thinking about it, I’m—”

“Beca, please. You _so_ want to hit this again. Literally, every time I tried to look at you today, you looked away as quick as possible, and the only reason people do that is because they don’t want to engage and let themselves think of how the other person looks like naked.”

“Wow, okay, so _that’s_ not accurate like, _at all_ , but—“

“Dude, seriously. Come on. I mean, like, you had fun, right? I did too. And plus, you know how to get me off, which is more than I can say for most people I come across, and since we’re getting busier with rehearsals and Aubrey wants us to step up on cardio, it’s like the perfect plan.”

She goes on further.

“Like, I don’t want to waste my time on some _dudebro_ from a frat who claims he’s All That when he can’t even get me to finish _and_ make sure I have enough time to review all of my shit for classes. I’d rather go for a sure thing and know I’d at least have two hours to study, and like, honestly, the more I think about it, the better my whole schedule is going to be so like, are you in or not?”

Was this actually Beca’s life right now? Like, did she really just listen to Stacie go through that entire speech and now have to give her a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answer?

Stacie’s hand slides lower from Beca’s forearm till she’s holding Beca’s fingers.

“Pretty please?”

_Christ._

“I fucking hate it when you use that voice,” Beca is saying all huffy.

Stacie smirks. “You didn’t seem to hate it last night.”

She’s drawing Beca closer.

“I was drunk last night,” she counters meagerly.

“No you weren’t.”

She pulls Beca right up against her.

“Yeah, I was,” she says a little lamely, looking up at Stacie.

“No, you weren’t.”

Stacie closes the distance between their lips in a soft peck.

“I wasn’t either.”

Beca lets out something of a small groan and she feels Stacie smile against her lips.

“You’re taking a detour and going to my room,” is what she hears before she’s being pulled out of the elevator and dragged down the hall.

* * *

So… they have an arrangement. A situation that is stemmed _entirely_ from circumstance and like, _things_. They’re both busy – or rather, _busier_ – now that Aubrey works them harder after tanking so badly at SBT. Plus, classes require more effort now as the year goes further on and whatever the fuck.

At least that’s what Beca tells herself every time she and Stacie stumble into the taller girl’s constantly vacant room every afternoon, a mess of greedy hands and even greedier lips.

It’s obviously not _great_ – you know, since they’re teammates and are doing very non-teammate-like things with each other – but it’s not _bad_. Because Stacie always finishes, just like she wants, and Beca has come to realize that Stacie’s room is a great place to mix that’s not her actual room… where roommate scowls at her for just existing in the _same space_.

So, they do their thing, then Stacie hits her books while Beca mixes away on Stacie’s roommate’s very empty desk for a couple of hours. She stays mixing long after Stacie is done studying, which Stacie doesn’t mind because it’s not like Beca makes any noise with the exception of her pressing her touchpad or typing. It peaks Stacie’s interest after a while though.

“What are you doing?”

“Hm?”

“On the laptop.”

“Oh. Just this arrangement with La Roux and… you know what, it’s not important.”

“No, tell me about it. I’m kinda curious.”

Then Stacie is getting up and leaning over Beca’s shoulder, completely distracting Beca with her cleavage being like _right there_ beside her face. But Beca isn’t some overly sex-crazed teenager. She can handle herself. (Sort of.)

She manages to explain the basics to Stacie and even lets her listen to snippets of what she’s done.  Stacie is very receptive to it. She lets Beca know that she thinks what she does is super cool. She even goes as far as to tell Beca to send her a copy of something she’s mashed up or arranged because she wants to run to it… or fuck to it.

“You want to… _fuck_ to this song?”

“You _don’_ t?”

Okay, maybe it’s her fault for remixing a song that can undoubtedly sound very sexy with the right beats.

But Stacie’s right… It’s a pretty great song to do it to.

Beca hates it.

* * *

On top of ‘meeting’ Stacie almost every day for their arrangement, they’ve also somehow manage to be texting each other more often than not. It’s really odd for Beca, since she’s not used to her phone going off so frequently or having so many notifications to go through when she finally does look at her phone. But Stacie _loves_ to text. Beca normally hates human interaction – and constant texting is draining – but she, by some miracle, copes with the amount of texts Stacie sends her… sort of.

**Stacie:** hey  
**Stacie:** hey  
**Stacie:** hey  
**Stacie:** hey  
**Stacie:** hey  
**Stacie:** hey  
**Stacie:** hey

**Beca:** WHAT DO YOU WANT

**Stacie:** sex

* * *

“Stacie, dude. Be careful.”

“Mm?”

“My neck.”

“The Bellas scarf will cover it, it’ll be okay.”

“Yeah, but I’m not gonna wear the Bellas scarf every _day_.”

Stacie chuckles lightly against Beca’s skin. “Fine. Party pooper.”

She bites down softly somewhere lower and Beca is forgetting why she’s so concerned about Stacie leaving marks where people can see.

* * *

  


**Stacie:** So um approximately like when do you think you’ll be able to pay attention to me???

  


Beca frowns and turns around where she sits on Stacie’s roommate’s desk chair.

“We’re _literally_ in the same room,” she lets Stacie know.

Stacie sits on the desk on the opposite end. “Yeah but like, texting is fun.”

Beca rolls her eyes and turns back around. “I’ll be done in 5 minutes.”

  


**Stacie:** (suggestive smiley face emoji)  
**Beca:** (middle finger emoji)

  


* * *

“You don’t like _movies_? That’s like, like not liking _puppies_.”

Beca rolls her eyes. “It’s just boring, and predictable. Like, the guy gets the girl, and the little kid sees dead people, and Darth Vader is Luke’s father—”

“Oh, so you just managed to guess the _biggest_ plot twist in cinematic history?”

“Vader _means_ ‘father’ in German. His name is literally Darth Father.”

Her phone buzzes in her pocket and she’s moving the Capri Sun away from her lips so she can read the text she just received.

It’s a picture of Stacie’s back. With long scratches running down it.

  


**Stacie:** back kink much?

  


Beca’s hand involuntary squeezes, making juice burst out of her pouch. “Oh, shit—!”

“Whoa!”

* * *

“And it got all over me!”

Stacie is laughing, holding her stomach as she shakes against the bed.

“It even got all over Jesse’s precious DVD collection. So, thank you for that by the way. Really.”

Stacie cackles again. “Anytime.”

She’s tugging Beca down by the shirt to meet her for a kiss where she lies. Beca obliges.

They’re on Stacie’s bed, dressed in nothing but oversized shirts and their underwear. Beca couldn’t be bothered to put her clothes back on after they were done so Stacie offered her one of the shirts she likes to lounge in. It has the logo of some science camp Stacie said she once taught at it for a summer.

“So, you and Jesse, is that like… a thing?” Stacie asks, sitting up so she’s against the wall.

Beca rests her back against Stacie’s headboard and shrugs. “I don’t know. No? I mean, he probably wants it to be, but Jesse is a giant dork and Aubrey has that stupid Treble rule so nothing’s gonna happen.”

Stacie quirks a brow. “So you’re saying if Aubrey didn’t have the Treble rule you’d _expose_ your _toner_ for _Jesse_?”

“Oh my god—” Beca rolls her eyes but her lips twist into a smile.

Stacie crawls over from where she was sitting against the wall. “Toner, toner, toner, toner—“

“I hate that word. It’s so stupid. Aubrey’s _actually_ crazy.”

Stacie chuckles against Beca’s lips before kissing them. “You have to give her credit. I mean, she’s pretty aca-incredible with all of the puns.”

“I will aca-murder you if you say that again.”

“Aca-scuse me?” Stacie quotes Aubrey.

Beca surges forward and meets Stacie’s lips for a kiss, pulling at the other girl’s shirt to urge her up to her lap. Stacie seems to get what Beca wants and moves accordingly, straddling Beca’s legs before she slides her arms around her neck.

“Are we going for yet another aca-round?” Stacie teases.

“I fucking hate you,” Beca murmurs against her mouth, nails raking down the sides of Stacie’s back.

* * *

When she’s getting dressed for the so-called Riff-Off that Jesse mentioned earlier this afternoon, Beca finally registers all of the deep colored marks along her neck and collarbone.

“Fuck,” she whispers quickly, yanking her shirt down a little just to see how far the hickeys go. Christ, she’s going to kill Stacie.

Beca finds this faded teal scarf from her closet and wraps it around her neck. It’s good thing it’s actually cold out lately so she has an excuse to have this on her. She unplugs her phone from where it charges and makes her way out of her dorm. She whips up a text to send to Stacie as she walks.

 **Beca:** you fucking branded me, i have fucking hickeys everywhere  
**Stacie** : Tough shit :P  
**Stacie:** They look good you though xoxo  
**Beca:** i can’t believe you didn’t tell me (eyeroll emoji)  
**Stacie:** I wanted it to be a surprise ;)  
**Beca:** bitch (middle finger emoji)  
**Stacie:** Hurry up to the pool before Aubrey yells at you xx  
**Beca:** i’m coming  
**Stacie:** :)))))))))  
**Beca:** i actually hate you

Stacie sends Beca a selfie of her and Lilly. It’s a really clever way of letting Beca know how revealing the top she’s wearing tonight is.

 **Beca:** subtle  
**Stacie:** You love it

* * *

So, they win but they don’t. It’s kind of stupid to lose on a technicality like that but Beca doesn’t really care. Aubrey does, though. Also, it’s super fucking weird how they can’t figure out if it’s on three or after three. Aubrey tells them all that they’ll work on first thing tomorrow.

The Bellas all mutter in agreement before they’re saying goodbyes and separating, making their own way for the evening. Beca is just about to fish her earphones out of her pocket when Stacie calls out her name and comes up behind her.

“Oh, hey. You know, I—”

Stacie is backing her against a nearby tree, muffling her words with hungry lips.

“Dude, what the fuck— we’re in public.”

“I had no idea you _rapped_.” Stacie is saying when she pulls back, a captivated look on her face.

They’re sort of hidden by some tall bushes, so Beca relaxes; though, it’s still pretty risky.

“Yeah, _terribly_ ,” she reminds.

“It was kinda hot.” Stacie mumbles, moving Beca’s scarf aside to press her lips to the skin of her neck.

“Whoa, okay. No. You’ve done enough.”

Beca _swears_ she feels Stacie’s smile widen against her skin.

“I’ll be careful,” Stacie promises, but there’s something about the singsong tone of her voice that has Beca rolling her eyes before guiding her away.

“You’re no fun.” The taller girl pouts.

“I look like a fucking Dalmation from the neck down.”

“Concealer, babes.”

“I could put _seven_ layers of concealer all over my neck and it won’t hide how fucking _dark_ you made them.”

“You just need to buy better concealer. I’ll go with you.” Stacie runs her fingers along some of her handy work. “The neck shit works for you, you’re so much more responsive.” She bites at her lower lip a little _too_ suggestively.

Beca rolls her eyes again, correcting the placement of her scarf. Stacie’s fingers curl around her belt loops.

“Come back with me?”

“We saw each other earlier today.”

“So?”

She jerks Beca closer by the loops of her pants. Beca fights the smile that wants to be on her lips. It’s a little laughable to her how insatiable Stacie’s appetite is, but she guesses she should take it as a compliment.

“ _Fine_. But I have work at the station early tomorrow, so not too late.” She moves out of Stacie’s grasp and begins walking ahead.

“Aww, look at you, being responsible.”

Beca lifts her hand up and flips Stacie off over her shoulder.

* * *

Between Bellas rehearsals, keeping up classes, working at the radio station, _and_ dealing with Jesse every time he wiggles into her life, Beca is exhausted. She doesn’t know how she’s gone this long without passing out in one of her classes or rehearsals. She’s _so_ tired.

She doesn’t particularly care about what her music theory professor is droning on about today, so she decides to get her phone out and text Stacie – who is the cause of this particular sleepiness for the record.

  


**Beca:** I want coffee

  


Barely even a second later, she gets a reply.

  


**Stacie:** I want your legs wrapped my head

  


A very not-safe-for-work-class-or-universe photo follows afterward.

  


**Beca:** well fuck the coffee then

  


God, she hates when she has classes and Stacie doesn’t.

* * *

Beca considers working at the radio station a necessary evil. Just like being a part of the Bellas. She does it so she can have something to look forward to. Like her dad agreeing to help pay for her to move to L.A. or Luke maybe one day finally playing one of her songs.

It’s a boring day of stacking CDs again when her phone goes off. Beca is so mind-numbed that she puts a Snoop Dogg CD besides a Beatles one before unlocking her phone to see the text.

  


**Stacie:** fuck me senseless

  


At this point, she’s grown used to Stacie’s ‘colorful’ language in the messages they share. But sometimes, she still gets confused. And it’s even worse when she’s groggy like this.

  


**Beca:** like into a coma?

  


It takes Stacie longer than Beca expects to reply. She even has time to put an Eminem track beside a Yeah Yeah Yeahs one.

  


**Stacie:** damn you mean business

  


_Hey Becky, why is this Snoop Dogg track beside Abbey Road?_

Beca rolls her eyes.

* * *

The longest break between fucking Stacie and not fucking Stacie happens when exams come around. It makes Beca tired for another reason entirely. And she doesn’t even put as much effort into it. It’s just really boring on top of being something she isn’t really going to need when she moves to L.A. so it’s basically a week and a half of her life she’ll never get back.

Her day quickly shifts from being dull to somewhat rousing when she gets a text from Stacie right as she’s walking out of the building of her last exam though.

**Stacie:** tomorrow I’m fucking you for a few hours  
**Stacie:** so get some rest xo

Well, now she’s _extra_ motivated to get home and pass out.

* * *

It’s Valentine’s Day. Aubrey makes her and Amy go around passing fucking letters or invitations or some shit. It’s fucking stupid. Beca refuses to wear the outfit Aubrey offers her so instead she wears a red hoodie. Chloe succeeds in persuading Beca to wear the wings of Aubrey’s outfit though, _and_ walk around with a bow and heart-tipped arrow on top of that.

God, who knew being a Bella came with more embarrassment than originally expected?

(Beca did. They make music with their mouths all over the country. _On purpose_.)

 **Stacie:** if i were an enzyme, i’d be a DNA helicase so i could unzip your genes  
**Beca:** wow  
**Stacie:** I worked hard on that!  
**Stacie:** also come to my room when you’re done with v-day duty xx

* * *

Beca’s arrangement with Stacie comes with a lot of benefits, but one benefit she never expects to be included is Stacie looking out for her academic well-being. Stacie encourages Beca to bring her assignments when she comes over so Beca can have it done before dinner time. She sits Beca down and makes her finish it. It’s the dumbest but also genuinely really helpful.

Stacie also does this thing that Beca _hates_ which is make sure she gets up at an suitable hour so that she can make it class on time. Stacie Conrad is much more effective than an alarm clock and it _sucks_.

 **Stacie:** wakey wakey bitch

Beca knows to answer the text or else they won’t stop coming. Stacie is persistent and probably already ready for the day so she has nothing better to do than bother Beca and get her out bed.

 **Beca:** what’s breakfast?  
**Stacie:** a strong cup of get your ass to class and a helping of now

Terrible food options, she’s never coming back here again.

 **Beca:** disgusting  
**Stacie:** go to class!!  
**Beca:** fuck you!!  
**Stacie:** you did last night!!

* * *

It’s inevitable that when you’re doing this kind of thing with someone, you learn about more than just what they like in bed. Beca has come to find that Stacie is a pretty package full of odd but pleasant surprises.

For one, Stacie doesn’t _actually_ have terrible taste in music. When she’s not listening to Miley Cyrus for the fiftieth time or playing some bullshit Kesha song, she listens to things Beca actually likes.

“Is this the XX?”

“Mhm.”

Two, Stacie likes weird shit. Like, there are people who like origami (and that’s a totally valid but not-common hobby) but like… Stacie likes weird shit. Beca can’t put it any other way than that.

“What is that?”

“What?”

“On your shirt.”

If this is where she learns Stacie likes heavy metal, she’s officially putting Stacie down as the weirdest person she knows.

“Oh, Evil Dead? Bitch, it’s such a great movie. You’ve never seen it?”

Beca shakes her head.

“We’ll watch it when you’re done with your homework.”

Beca scoffs. “How do you know I’m not already done?”

Stacie stares at her pointedly.

“Okay, fine.”

Three: okay, this one isn’t weird or surprising, it’s just kind of cute. But Stacie _loves_ burritos. So much so that she has some fucking guac on the tip of her nose when she pulls away from a bite this one time they go and eat Chipotle. Beca has to hand her a tissue to wipe it.

“Disgraceful.”

Stacie flips her off.

Beca smiles.

* * *

Since getting to know someone is sort of a two-way street, Stacie gets to know Beca too – much to her chagrin. Stacie is probably one of Beca’s closest friends and not a lot of people know this because they barely hang out in the real world outside of practice and Bella gatherings.  But they’re good enough friends that Stacie can convince Beca to do things like dance around with no pants on.

(Then again, Beca is running on – as Stacie would put it because she hates Beca – a ‘post-coitus high’.)

The Tragic Thrills is blasting through Stacie’s speakers and she and Stacie mouth the lyrics with no regard – jumping on Stacie’s bed, jumping on Stacie’s ever-absent roommate’s bed, screaming into hairbrushes and pens.

_We got scars reminding us_  
_That we got hearts that bleed_  
_Next time we’re dealt dirty cards_  
_We’ve got tears so we can weep_

Before the song finishes, Stacie runs and grabs Beca, tackling her backwards onto the mattress. They’re a mess of giggles and tangled limbs, and Beca can’t remember the last time she laughed so hard she couldn’t breathe.

“You’re a fucking psycho,” Beca lets out mid-laugh.

“And you look _fucking_ good in plaid.”

Stacie is quick to climb over Beca, sitting on top of her while her fingers undo the buttons that Beca did of her shirt.

“Stacie. I literally just put this back on 10 minutes ago.”

“And you can put it back on again when we’re done.” She winks at Beca before leaning down to kiss her.

* * *

She and Jesse share one class. It’s a mandatory general education thing. Recently, they’ve gotten paired up for this small project, and while Beca could care less about whatever advantage this subject is supposed to give her, she has somehow finished all of her part of the divided work already.

“Damn, you got through your stuff fast,” Jesse notes, taking in all of the slides Beca has added to their shared Powerpoint. “And did you answer the stuff from the books too?”

“Yup,” Beca shoots back casually, popping the ‘p’.

“How’d you do it? I’m _so_ behind on this, it’s embarrassing.”

“I, um…” How is she going to phrase this? “Have a… incentive system.”

“An incentive system?”

“Like a… rewards thing.”

“Oh, cool! Do you do that thing where you put candy bars in between chapters to get through readings? I do. It’s really hard since I just end up thinking: nothing’s stopping me, I could totally eat this right now.”

* * *

**_Stacie:_ ** _finish your homework and we can have sex xoxo_  
**_Beca:_ ** _fight me_  
**_Stacie:_ ** _do you not want to?_

_Stacie attaches a photo of her in nothing but some lacy lingerie._

**_Beca:_** _…fine._

* * *

“Yeah, I’m doing that.”

Because it’s not like she can tell Jesse what her _actual_ incentive system is. It’s not the most traditional rewarding system that exists between two people but it works for Beca and Stacie.

* * *

**Stacie:** Compliment me  
**Beca:** you have eyes  
**Stacie:** Nice

They’re literally siting in the same room. Stacie turns her head to look at Beca who is sitting three seats down from her while Aubrey goes through the game plan for their coming performance.

_Stacie, what are you looking at? Eyes on the board. Come on._

Beca snickers.

(She also pays for snickering later when they get out of practice and Stacie can’t even wait so they fuck in the bathroom closest to the warehouse. It’s really fucking stupid. They have to stop when they hear someone come in to wash their hands – they think it’s Jessica – before they go back at it again.)

“You couldn’t wait?” Beca says when they leave there.

“Like you complained,” Stacie retorts with a light scoff.

Beca blushes profusely. Stacie just smiles at her before taking her hand and lacing their fingers together.

It’s weird… It’s probably just shit friends that girls do, right? Beca was never the kind of person to have a lot of friends that are girls so she’s not familiar with their habits. The way her hand tingles where Stacie touches is also _definitely_ because she’s not familiar with the feeling. Not because she like—you know what, nevermind.

“I hate you,” Beca settles for saying instead.

“Show me how much tonight.”

She may or may not have tripped over her footing after that but you know what, fuck Stacie.

* * *

They place. They place because Fat Amy decided to go rogue during the performance and actually make it entertaining. They place which means they’re actually going further with this thing. It’s crazy.

And then Jesse. Fucking Jesse who’s _way_ too nice for his own good.

“I’m gonna go, just—give me a second.”

She’s moving away from the Bellas and walking down the steps. Some has-been Treble is giving Jesse a hard time. Or rather, begging Jesse to give _him_ a hard time. It’s super fucking weird.

Then Amy is getting involved. Which is good for no one, really. And somehow, it’s Beca who ends up in trouble when she didn’t even really do anything in the first place. Part of the trophy goes through the glass wall and it shatters like the hope Beca had about making it to L.A. after the year was over.

* * *

“Why are you mad at me? I’m the only one here.”

“I didn’t ask you to be. You’re not my boyfriend.”

* * *

“You guys waited for me?”

“Of course we waited,” Chloe says, like there’s no other answer.

Beca and Stacie meet eyes briefly before Aubrey’s voice is grabbing their attention.

* * *

“I’m really sorry you had to deal with the whole ‘being taken in’ thing,” Chloe says.

The Bellas are filtering out of her room. From the corner of her eye, she can see Stacie hang around outside of her door. Beca tries to focus her attention on Chloe however.

“Are you okay?”

“It’s nothing.”

“You sure?”

“Nothing I can’t deal with, Chloe. I promise.”

Chloe nods then. “Okay. Well, I’ll see you at rehearsals, right?”

She forces her lips to make a smile. Chloe waves before she leaves out of Beca’s door. She overhears Chloe say ‘are you coming, Stace?’ and makes out Stacie saying something along the lines of catching up before Chloe disappears from her line of sight completely.

Beca throws a glance at Kimmy Jin before sighing and walking over to where Stacie is, shutting the door behind her so there’s no chance of Kimmy listening in on what her and Stacie were about to talk about it, whatever it may be. Stacie’s probably just going to give her shit for actually landing herself in jail for a couple of hours.

“Sup?” Beca says.

“Are you okay?”

It’s not what she expects to hear from Stacie but she doesn’t let it faze her.

“I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Um, because you got fucking _arrested_.”

Beca just rolls her eyes and offers something of a half-way shrug in response. Stacie doesn’t seem satisfied with it by the way she tilts her head and narrows her eyes at Beca.

“What do you want me to do? Take back getting detained? I can’t un-arrest myself, Stacie. It happened.”

Stacie sighs.

Beca does too.

It falls quiet between the both of them for a bit. Beca watches Stacie awkwardly shift her weight from foot to foot before she asks, “can you stay with me tonight?” in this voice that she’s really not familiar with.

Her brows furrow. She wants to ask why.

But then Stacie is saying “please” in a way that she can’t say no to, and before she’s aware of it, Beca is telling Stacie she’ll just take a shower and get whatever she needs before meeting her down there.

“Okay.”

She also spends an unnecessary amount of time standing outside of her door, watching Stacie leave before she finally goes in.

* * *

It’s the first time they actually lay in Stacie’s bed with the purpose of sleeping – like proper sleeping – not some fatigue-induced nap that lasts for 20 minutes before one of them is stirring awake to shuffle out of bed and put on clothes.

Honestly, Beca doesn’t know why Stacie wants her over. It feels like the window to ask has passed. Stacie doesn’t seem to act any differently to help Beca understand why. She’s maybe a little more quiet but it’s probably because it’s really late and they’re both tired. But they still talk to each other the same way. There doesn’t seem to be any shift in the language they use. She also doesn’t sense any pity from Stacie to her, nor does she sense any sadness or upset from Stacie. So like really, Beca doesn’t get why she’s here.

She glances to her right. Stacie is already asleep.

With an exhale, she turns over to lay on her side and stare at the empty bed across the room. She feels like those sheets haven’t moved since the first time she was in here. (With the exception of that time she and Stacie jumped around on her roommate’s bed but they totally fixed it, so.)

Did Stacie’s roommate actually exist? Like, Beca knows her name is Calamity. But has she ever _seen_ Calamity? No—

The bed shifts. Stacie is moving around. Before she knows it, she’s right up against her. One of Stacie’s legs hook around hers and she feels Stacie’s arm drapes across her waist.

Beca swallows.

She hears Stacie sigh contently behind her before feeling the taller girl nuzzle into her hair.

This was… new.

* * *

Beca plans to leave the second the sun comes up. But since it takes her so long to fall asleep, she finds herself blinking awake to the sound of Stacie stirring a teaspoon in her mug.

Beca sits up and rubs at her eyes. When she opens them, she finds Stacie sat at her desk but facing her. She has her glasses on, her hair is thrown up in a lazy bun, and she dons this Destiny’s Child shirt that makes Beca smile a little even if it’s way too early to be doing any of that smiling business.

“Um. Hey?”

“Hey yourself.”

Beca yawns. “What time is it?”

“Like 9.”

Beca groans. Her first instinct is to fall back to bed but like, this isn’t _her_ bed. She sighs quietly before swinging her legs over the edge of the mattress.

“Are you doing anything today?”

Beca looks to Stacie. “Um, no. It’s Sunday, dude.”

“Do you want to hang out? I can help you study for that quiz you have tomorrow.”

Quiz? Her face contorts into a look of confusion.

Stacie points upwards at her little whiteboard planner. In purple ink, it says _Beca’s Intro to Philosophy Quiz_ with tomorrow’s date.

Beca bites her lower lip. Okay, she totally forgot about that quiz.

“You making notes for me now?”

“A reminder never hurt anyone. And you always freaking forget, so it’s like you’re not in need of a little help,” Stacie counters.

 _Valid point_.

“I’ll just clean up and get my laptop and stuff,” Beca is then saying.

Stacie nods, turning around in her computer chair. Beca leaves before she can wrack her brain for reasons as to why Stacie wants her here today.

In the grand scheme of things, she probably doesn’t actually care. Like, she has a quiz that she completely forgot about and probably _knows_ nothing about tomorrow. Having Stacie help her is her best chance of actually sort of passing it. She’s not in a position to complain or really even overanalyze. Especially with it being _this_ early in the morning. She just wants to put it down to Stacie knowing she has something she’s not ready for on Monday and is doing her solid.

As a friend.

(They’re _just_ friends.)

* * *

Some slow and chill song is playing on Stacie’s speakers when Beca walks in.

_Through drought and famine, natural disasters_  
_My baby has been around for me_

“Daniel Caesar?” She asks.

Stacie nods.

See? Good taste in music. And it’s a good thing Stacie decided to be in one of her ‘good taste in music’ moods. Beca doesn’t think she’d be able to get through Sunday if she had to listen to Miley Cyrus.

Before Beca can walk further into the room, Stacie holds her hand out and wiggles her fingers at Beca, motioning her to come over. Though a little confused, Beca does. Stacie pulls her lower for a soft kiss before nudging her to move towards the bed.

(Why is she warm all over her chest? What the fuck.)

* * *

They sit on Stacie’s bed and go over the content Beca needs to know for tomorrow. Apparently, it’s a lot more than just a single chapter’s worth of reading. It’s actually several chapters. Beca has never hated Intro to Philosophy more. Like, it’s Philosophy? The fact that she has to learn this when she’s a Music Theory major is just stupid.

“Stop scowling, you’ll get frown lines.”

Beca scoffs a little, a smile on her face as she turns her head to look at Stacie.

She’s sat in between Stacie’s legs. Stacie plays with her hair and occasionally presses kisses against her shoulder. They’ve gone through most of the stuff at this point so Stacie has taken a step back to let Beca answer the little section of questions at the end of each chapter on her own.

“Frown lines?”

“They’re a real thing. Remind me to get you on skincare next.”

Being friends with Stacie comes with a lot little surprises. Little surprises that Beca has come to find she doesn’t actually dislike as much as she claims she does.

* * *

She and Stacie don’t mess around at all that day. They make out for a little bit once Beca is done but it’s all innocent, slow and lazy with some giggling and shit-talking in between. They only leave the room to get take-out for dinner, which they eat on the floor of Stacie’s room while listening to Arcade Fire. Before Beca leaves that night, Stacie makes her do a face mask – which she makes from scratch (“100% natural ingredients”).

“If you tell anyone I agreed to do this, I’ll have to kill you.”

Stacie just smiles as she continues to apply the mixture to Beca’s face. “For a second I thought you’d say you’d withhold sex.”

“That’s actually better. I’ll do that.”

“Psh, right. Like you can resist all of _this_.” She leans down to gets her cleavage all in Beca’s face.

“Ah, dude, quit it – you’ll ruin the mask.”

Stacie gasps. “Bitch! I knew you loved this.”

“What? No. I just don’t want to like, ruin it and start over. I’d rather do this once and do it right then just—“

Beca goes on rambling but she stops when Stacie kisses her. “You like this. Stop lying.”

“I just think my face could really benefit from the moisturizing properties of egg whites,” Beca quips.

“Shithead.” Stacie shakes her head fondly. “Also, egg whites tighten pores. You’re thinking of honey. Or aloe.”

Beca just sticks her tongue out at Stacie.

Stacie sticks her tongue out right back at her.

* * *

Life goes on. Her dad gets over that she got arrested. Aubrey works them hard in preparation for the Semi-Finals. She still insists on using the exact same choreography – “just more polished and please, no more improvisations, Amy” – and it’s kind of frustrating Beca because there’s no way these judges are going to want to see the same performance twice, no matter how polished or by the book it is.

She tells Stacie about it one evening when they’re hanging out.

“It’s just like, we can do so much better. Why does she insist on sucking the dick of tradition?”

“Did you just say ‘suck the dick of tradition’?”

Beca rolls her eyes. “You know what I mean.”

Stacie just snickers before padding over to where Beca is sitting on Calamity’s desk chair. She climbs onto Beca’s lap, arms snaking lazily over her shoulders. Out of habit, Beca’s hands find her hips to help balance her but she’s still heated about the topic of Aubrey and the Bellas set.

“Like, if I have to hear ‘Eternal Flame’ and ‘Turn It Around’ one more time, I might _actually_ lose it.”

Stacie just makes this small, non-committal noise. She moves Beca’s hair aside and dips her head, pressing her mouth to exposed skin of the shorter girl’s neck.

“I don’t know why she’s so against hearing other ideas. Like, sure, it doesn’t even have to be _mine_ since she _hates_ me, but she can at least hear Chloe or someone else out or something.”

“Beca.”

“The Trebles _never_ sing the same song twice, and I fucking _hate_ Bumper, but it’s—”

“ _Beca_.”

The girl finally snaps out of her tangent and pays attention to Stacie, who she now notices is wearing _her_ plaid shirt – buttons undone so it’s just a complete view her abs and the valley of her breasts.

“Whoa.”

“Yeah. So do you want to stay heated about Aubrey or…” Her teeth nip softly at Beca’s lower lip. “…do want get heated with me?”

Beca’s answer comes in the form of her surging forward to capture Stacie’s lips in an eager kiss.

* * *

She doesn’t know what it is – it just could be the fact that they’ve done this so many times and grown terribly accustomed to each other – but Stacie seems… different. Softer, Beca thinks.

She plays with Beca’s hair when they’re lying in bed. She kisses Beca randomly when they’re just doing their homework or Beca is mixing at Calamity’s desk. She traces small patterns against Beca’s skin. (Beca thinks they’re drawings of chemical structures or some shit but she can’t be sure – there are an awful lot of lines though, which is why she assumes this, if she’s even referring to the right thing; it could just be letters that Beca is too tired to pick up on.)

Stacie also finds ways for Beca to stick around longer on days she doesn’t plan to mix there or do homework.

Like right now, Stacie lays on her stomach, sleeping on her forearms. After they finished, Stacie told her that she was just going to ‘take a short nap’ but for Beca to ‘stick around’ and ‘wake me after 30 minutes so I can study’. Beca thinks Stacie does this completely nude on purpose so her back is exposed to the shorter girl. Like, she could have put a shirt on. Hell, Beca did. Why was Stacie like this?

Beca sighs before tucking some hair that had fallen over Stacie’s face behind her ear. She soon finds herself running her fingers absently down Stacie’s back, outlining around the scratches her nails had earlier left there. She should really be more careful but Stacie doesn’t mind – in fact, she says she actually likes that Beca leaves marks. It keeps Stacie from wearing more of her backless blouses though, and Beca feels like she should be a little more considerate so she decides from then on to be more careful.

Her phone rings beside her, indicating 30 minutes is up. She puts a stop to the alarm with a quick swipe of her thumb.

“Stacie?”

She leans down to press her lips against Stacie’s shoulder blade before whispering.

“Wake up.”

Stacie stirs, whining a little before she burrows her face in the sheets.

Beca chuckles. “Dude, c’mon. You said you wanted to study.”

Stacie lifts a hand over her shoulder, feeling around till she touches Beca’s face. She then slides it slower till she has a grip on the material of the oversized shirt Beca wears. She tugs.

“Five more minutes,” she mutters. “Lie down with me.”

“I don’t feel like sleeping.”

Stacie just moves her hand till it rests over the nape of Beca’s neck then guides it towards her, smushing Beca’s face against her skin.

“Sleep,” she mumbles.

Beca grins softly, moving her head to bite playfully at Stacie’s skin. “No.”

“Asshole.”

Stacie turns around so that she faces Beca now, blinking her eyes before they adjust to the sight of Beca. Beca can’t help but think about how fucking beautiful she looks, especially with the light from her window hitting her like this. Like, it’s fucking crazy that there are people out there with genes this good.

“What?”

“You’re so hot, it’s stupid.”

Stacie’s lips widen into a grin. She’s holding her arms open for Beca then.

With a shake of her head, Beca obliges though, moving her legs on either side of Stacie before leaning down to kiss her. She thinks it’ll stop at a peck but Stacie keeps kissing. Kissing and kissing and kissing, and soon, Beca can’t remember why she was so against the idea of sleeping next to Stacie when they’re bodies feel this good against each other.

* * *

Beca sleeps over sometimes now – it’s just more convenient, especially when they hook up later in the day. Stacie doesn’t mind. In fact, she encourages it, claiming that she “wouldn’t mind getting her cuddle on”. Beca very quickly informs her that she’s against cuddles, and this was just because she’s too tired to make the trip two floors up. She finds herself with Stacie wrapped around her during the nights anyway. Stacie has a habit of doing that – ignoring Beca’s bullshit.

(Okay, so she doesn’t _hate_ being held while she falls asleep. She pretends to for the first 5 minutes, but then she realizes that Stacie is warm and feels good against her body, and she lets herself sink into the feeling.)

* * *

“Your hair smells really good.”

Another new thing Beca’s learned about Stacie is that she has this habit of saying things against Beca’s skin. It usually happens when they’re waiting to fall asleep, speaking mindlessly in hushed voices. She doesn’t know what it is, maybe Stacie just likes the feeling of her lips brushing against Beca’s skin when she talks or it could just be that Stacie couldn’t be bothered to move her head away from where it’s nuzzled into the side of Beca’s neck.

Sometimes, Beca hears her words clearly. Other times, she doesn’t. She puts that down to Stacie already being half-asleep and unable to utter words at an audible volume but it’s whatever.

The only time she’s ever actually bothered by not catching what Stacie is saying to her sometimes is this one night where she speaks three words against Beca’s skin that start with ‘I’ and end with ‘you’.

Beca doesn’t catch the middle word but it freaks her the fuck out enough to turn her head to the side slightly and ask “what did you say?” in a volume just above a whisper.

But she doesn’t get a response back and only hears slow and steady breathing in return.

Beca is familiar with this type of breathing: it means Stacie is _asleep_.

She shake her head and rests it against the pillow again.

_It’s probably nothing._

She feels Stacie’s hand move under the covers to hold hers a moment later.

Beca gulps.

* * *

It’s the day of the Semi-Finals but that’s not why she’s freaking out. She’s running across campus and into the radio station dressed in her stupid Bellas flight attendant outfit before she’s tapping excitedly on the window of the station’s booth.

“That’s my song! You’re playing my song! Do you like it?! It’s good, right?!”

Luke just smiles at her before nodding his head and making his way out of the booth.

“It’s a sick track.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“I mean, the guys at the club do a version of it, but yours? Yours is better.”

“Damn straight.”

“Hey Becky, what are you doing on Spring Break? You should work the booth. Night shifts.”

“Seriously? But I’m still a Freshman.”

“But you’re good,” Luke points out.

Beca smirks.

“What is this? Do you have flight attendant training?”

“Oh. It’s nothing, it’s just this thing I have. The Barden Bellas? It’s the Semi-Finals tonight.”

“Bellas? Really? I did not peg you for an acapella girl.”

Beca just shrugs.

Luke’s eyes squint and then he’s saying, “by the way—” and gesturing to an area on his own neck.

Beca touches her neck self-consciously before turning to the side to catch a glimpse of herself on the small car mirror they have on the wall as décor.

“Shit.”

“Busy night?”

“Sorta, yeah…”

“Better cover that up with your scarf better.”

“Thanks,” Beca mumbles, doing just that before she and Luke discuss some more details about her working the night shift.

* * *

_Next time, baby… I’ll be… bulleeeeetproof._

Aubrey wants to _murder_ her.

When they step off of the stage, the tall blonde is quick to grab Beca by the arm to whip her around.

“What was _that_?”

“ _That_ was me saving the performance. The judges were falling asleep out there.”

The rest of the Bellas have made their way through the curtains and join them backstage now.

“That wasn’t your decision to make!” Aubrey points out, her voice shrill.

It all falls apart quite quickly then.

Aubrey accuses Beca of sabotaging the performance, ending it with an “ _I told you_ she’s not one of us”. Beca looks to the rest of the Bellas for _something_ to help make her point. Chloe, Amy, Jessica… _Stacie_. They all sort of shrink away. One of them doing that hurts just a _little_ more than when the others do it.

As Beca and Aubrey are about to go at it again, someone finally decides to step up for her – and while she really could have used some backing, this was the worst time for this particular person’s involvement.

“Hey Aubrey, what—”

“Oh my god, _of course_ you’re here right now,” Beca huffs.

“I knew you were dating him! That’s against the rules!” Aubrey is quick to fault.

“What? We’re not dating, I’m just—”

“Jesse, _stop_. I _don’t_ need your _help_.”

She looks to the rest of the Bellas because that’s who she really could have used support from. Especially from fucking Chloe, who usually is pretty up Aubrey’s ass about trying Beca’s controversial ideas but now she’s got nothing to say.

She doesn’t even want to get _started_ on Stacie. She doesn’t know why she expects Stacie to back her, but honestly, she feels a little fucking upset if she’s being real with herself right now. Like, did shit not count if they were outside of Stacie’s room?

God, this is why she doesn’t let herself expect things from people. It’s just disappointing.

“You know what? If this is what I get for trying—”

She lets her hands fall to her sides before she’s storming out.

“No, Beca, wait—!” There’s Chloe’s voice.

“Beca, hold on—” And there’s Stacie’s.

Too little, too late, dude.

* * *

Her pace is heavy as she wanders off, trying to clear her head. It seems impossible with the way her phone constantly goes off in her jacket pocket. She _knows_ those are texts from Stacie. Beca doesn’t acknowledge them. And when Stacie goes from texting Beca to calling her, Beca decides to just shut her phone off.

She meanders around for a while. Then when she’s worn out enough, she’s hailing the closest cab and heading back to Barden.

* * *

When she steps into her building, she doesn’t expect to find Stacie sitting in the lobby waiting for her. They meet eyes for the briefest of moments before Beca is tearing her gaze away and walking ahead.

“Where the hell have you _been_?”

Stacie is quick to follow after her as she keeps forward, eyes on the elevators. She’s not doing this right now. She’s tired, she just wants to go into her room and shut shit out for a while.

She presses the call button for the elevator more times than necessary.

“Dude, I’m not doing this right now,” Beca dismisses.

The elevator arrives and she steps in.

“Not _doing_ this right now? I—”

Stacie is going in after her. Beca shuts the doors then and holds her purse close to herself, waiting for the arrival of her floor.

“Beca, _look_ at me.”

She clenches her jaw. She really doesn’t want to do this right now. Like, she couldn’t be more serious about it.

“ _Beca_.”

But Stacie is adamant.

She exhales irritably before turning her head.

“ _What?_ ” Her tone is harsher than necessary. “Dude, I told you, I don’t want to deal with this shit right now. Can you leave me alone?”

She stares at the indicator, watching as the number builds higher and higher until—

_Ding._

Beca is quick to make her way out.

“Beca, hold on—”

She’s reminded too clearly of when she stormed out of the backstage area. It fills her with the anger she thought she got rid of on her walk.

“Bec—”

“ _Why the hell didn’t you back me?_ ” She whips around quickly, cutting Stacie off.

Like usual, Stacie barely seems fazed by it and is swift to counter.

“Okay, _chill_. Look, I get it: you’re _angry_. And Beca, you were right, we should have done something more creative, but you can’t just improvise shit in the middle of a performance. We’re a _group_. You could have consulted us before you went off like that.”

“Jesus Christ—” is all Beca can say.

God, just when she thought she could at least count on _someone_ being on her side.

“You know what, forget this, I’m—”

She doesn’t even bother finishing her sentence, turning around and walking down the hall to her room. She hears Stacie’s steps right behind her, obviously not dropping this like Beca wants.

“Beca, I’m sorry. Is that what you want to hear?”

Beca wants a lot of things right now. At the very top of the list: peace and quiet. And then for Stacie to not be fucking following her.

“’ _Sorry_ ’? You’re joking.” Beca scoffs. “Stop saying shit just to get me to calm down.”

“I am! Hey!”

Stacie catches her by the wrist, turning Beca to look her way. Beca allows this.

“I _am_ ,” Stacie repeats, slow and certain. “I’m sorry for not backing you. It was a shit thing to do… but you’re also being _super_ irrational right now—”

At that word, Beca is pulling her wrist out of Stacie’s hold and bounding down the hall again.

“Beca!”

“Dude, fuck off!”

She manages to stomp her way to her door without Stacie being right on her heels. She takes her keys out and shoves them into the knob, twisting and letting herself in.

“Beca—”

Stacie halts the door with a quick grip before she manages to shut it. Beca glares at the taller girl.

“Can you please just—can you stop? For a second? Just. Listen to me. Please?”

“I’ve _been_ listening and I really don’t give a _crap_ about what you have to stay,” Beca snipes.

“Beca… Come on.”

“Dude, just—why are you trying? I don’t want to talk about it. I’m _done_. With this whole thing. The Bellas, practice, all of it—”

“All of it?” Stacie interrupts, her voice cracking.

They both know what that means. And Beca didn’t mean it that way at first but now… Like, she could give a fuck. Honestly. She’s so pissed at Stacie right now for getting in her business when she really just wants to be left alone.

They look at each other for a long moment before Beca is swallowing the lump in her throat and continuing on.

“All of it,” she decides with a breath.

She’s tired. There’s just so many things going on in her head. And since they basically tanked tonight, it means the Bellas aren’t moving on, so there’s no more practice and therefore no need for them to still have this arrangement.

“Find someone else. I’m done.”

Stacie’s hand falls from where it holds the door. She’s looking at Beca with dejected eyes and downturned lips. It makes Beca hurt, somewhere in the center of her chest, and she thinks that’s fucking _stupid_ , and it makes her _angry_ , so she shakes her head with a small grunt before she pushes the door closed.

(She thinks she caught a glimpse of wetness in Stacie’s eyes before she shut the door on her, but it could just be Beca’s mind playing tricks. Everything feels too fast and intense. It might have been anything and it also might have been nothing at all.)

When she turns around with a deep push of breath, she sees Kimmy Jin staring at her from her desk.

Fucking _perfect_.

Beca just rolls her eyes before dropping her purse on the floor and collapsing on her bed.

* * *

With their loss at the Semi-Finals, it goes without saying that the Bellas disband. It makes Beca ‘quitting’ easier. She doesn’t have to inform anybody, no one to answer to. She can go on with her life without having to worry about any of it.

But she does get a call. And texts. From Stacie. Just a few for the next couple of days.

* * *

  


**Stacie:** Beca?

  


That’s Stacie’s first text. It comes the morning after the disaster that was their loss at the Semi-Finals.

Then later that afternoon, she gets a call. She watches her phone ring and ring until it stops.

  


_(1) Missed call from Stacie Conrad._

  


A text follows afterwards.

  


**Stacie:** Please answer my call

  


Beca doesn’t even answer her _texts_. She could keep dreaming about Beca answering her _call_.

* * *

**Stacie:** Don’t do this  


She gets this the very next day. It’s another text she doesn’t answer. Or open, for that matter.

* * *

  
**Stacie:** Beca?  


Beca rolls her eyes at the notification and swipes it away.

 **Stacie:** You know what, when you’re done being an ass – call me

Beca doesn’t know it then, but this is the last text she’ll get from Stacie.

* * *

It takes Beca two days to notice but it finally registers in her head that Stacie’s done trying with her.

 _Good_ , Beca thinks. _I hated my phone going off so much all of the time._

Much to what she wants to believe, she still finds herself staring at her phone now and again, thinking that eyeing the device will somehow make it buzz with a notification from Stacie.

(It doesn’t.)

Beca gets over it after a while.

* * *

The days come and go, and soon enough, Spring Break comes around. One by one, students leave Baker Hall, piling into their cars and heading off to see their families or spend time with their friends.

Kimmy Jin leaves too.

“Have a good break, Beca,” she even says before she goes.

It’s almost kind of touching, Beca thinks.

“Yeah, you too.”

And then like she’s always wanted, she’s alone.

* * *

Beca comes to learn that silence by yourself and silence with someone else in the room makes a stark difference. She actually thinks she misses Kimmy Jin’s expressionless stares and monotone voice when 8PM hits and no one is chiding her for accidentally bumping the small wicker basket full of teabags off of the mini fridge.

Beca makes do by packing her things into her backpack and heading to the radio station for her shift.

She has everything she’s wanted from the start: solitude, quiet, no roommate, and no obligation to a group of girls who only ever sing the same two songs over and over. And she gets to be in the booth – where no freshmen are commonly allowed in – playing her music and doing what she loves, so… that’s pretty substantial.

It should feel good… right?

* * *

This movie is fucking stupid and she doesn’t know why she’s crying. There’s literally no logical reason for her to be crying _at all_ right now.

Beca breathes in deep to stop her tears, laughing lightly when they fall down anyway. Her hands wipe at her cheeks and she blows out air slowly, hoping to calm herself.

It’s a stupid fucking movie about people getting possessed and murdering each other because of some old book. There’s nothing heartwarming or emotionally-appealing about it at all. It’s not even that type of movie. It’s just mindless horror and fantasy and shit.

She’s picking up her phone and opening up a familiar chain of texts before she’s typing.

  
_why the fuck do i miss you right now_  


  


She watches the cursor appear and reappear before her thumb finds the backspace button and she’s erasing the entire message. She sighs and puts her phone away.

She goes to bed wondering what Stacie’s doing.

* * *

Her dad invites her over for tea one afternoon out of the blue. She has nothing better to do and that’s why she goes. It’s a surprise to her when they actually starting talking about things that matter and she admits to those things mattering.

“No one’s more surprised than me but I… I really liked those girls.”

(And maybe really, _really_ liked one of them in particular.)

“Sometimes the right thing to do isn’t the easiest…”

“How do I know what’s the right thing?”

“Oh, you’ll know.”

God, she hates her dad sometimes. He has a knack for being elusive just to make a point.

* * *

Beca thinks it’s an overdose of too much emotionally-charged music and late nights in the station’s booth that has her putting her pride aside and kicking her ass into gear.

She starts with Jesse, because that seems the easiest. She brings a little portable speaker and blasts ‘Don’t You Forget About Me’ outside of his door. (She’s maybe tackled some of his ‘Beca Needs To See These Movies’ list.)

“What are you doing here?”

“I came to apologize.”

He blinks like he never thought the word ‘apologize’ could ever actually leave Beca’s lips without her combusting into flames.

“Can I come in?”

He lets her in and they talk. And kind of hug. It’s not terrible. Beca lets him down easy, and he even tells her that he gets it: that she’s not into him like that.

“Maybe another life?”

“Yeah, maybe,” Beca says, because Jesse’s not all that bad.

They’re better as friends though. This they both agree on.

“I’d be terrible for you,” Beca says then just ‘cause.

“I could live with that.”

“Yeah, but you shouldn’t. You deserve better.”

“You’re really great, though… especially when you’re not being a jerk.”

“Wow, _thanks_.”

They laugh and Jesse hugs her again. She tenses up a little bit when he does but eventually relaxes herself enough to sink into it.

“Thanks, Jesse,” she whispers against his shoulder.

“Anytime.”

* * *

She’s considering it: talking to Stacie. She stares at that final text she got from the tall brunette from ages ago and wonders if it still applies.

  
_You know what, when you’re done being an ass – call me_  


  


It probably doesn’t but she’s so far into this ‘righting her wrongs’ thing that she feels like she could actually press that ‘call’ button and things will work out. It’s probably stupid. It’s definitely her being stupid.

Her thumb hovers over the ‘call’ sign and she’s just about to press it when she receives a string of texts… from Chloe.

**Chloe:** Hey, Beca. Look, I know you quit but we just got some news: we’re back IN. The Footnotes CHEATED. Their leader singer’s in HIGH SCHOOL.  
**Chloe:** We’re holding our first practice for the Finals TOMORROW at the warehouse. We really hope you’ll come.  
**Chloe:** You make us better.  <3

* * *

Her next apology is a little more difficult: the Bellas. She kind of dreads it but she also believes that she should just get it over with so it doesn’t keep her up at night. If it all goes to hell, at least she could say she tried.

What she doesn’t expect to find when she walks into the warehouse though is a pool of puke and Chloe, Amy, and Aubrey fighting over the pitch pipe on the floor.

“Guys. Guys, stop, what is going on?!”

And yeah, she doesn’t miss the way the rape whistle falls out of Stacie’s mouth once she notices Beca either.

Aubrey is swift to snatch the pitch pipe off of the floor now that Beca has distracted everyone and she scrambles onto her feet, quick to remind Beca that this is a _Bellas_ rehearsal.

“I know,” Beca says quickly. “I just… I came to apologize.”

That seems to entice Aubrey enough to listen. All eyes are on her now. It makes the erratic beating of her heart go even crazier before she’s breathing out slowly and giving her two-cents.

“What I did was a really _dick_ move… and I shouldn’t have changed the set without asking you guys…”

The whole apologizing thing doesn’t _feel_ easier but now that she’s started she might as well cover all of her points if she’s going to die of embarrassment anyway.

“And I definitely shouldn’t have left,” she adds. Because that was also a dick move too – the whole storming out thing.

“I should have… stuck around maybe. Talked it out.”

This part was mostly for Stacie – not that they all know that – the two meet eyes briefly before Beca redirects her attention to Aubrey again.

“I let you guys down and I’m really sorry.”

This next thing she’s about to do is really going to kill her but she does it in the name of paying for her transgressions and like, trying to be a decent human being.

“And… Aubrey, if you’d have me… I want back in.”

Her soul just about shrivels up and dies then but she waits it out, suffering through Aubrey’s pompous brow lift and silence. Jesus, she wasn’t going to make this easy, was she?

Beca nods slowly.

_Okay, then…_

To her right, she sees a foldable chair by the piano. With pressed lips, she grabs onto it, echoing one of the Treble-bone’d Bella’s actions by beginning to drag it towards the exit.

She walks some feet, then stops, looking over her shoulder.

Aubrey looks away just as their eyes meet.

Seriously? Okay, maybe just a little more embarrassment. Beca drags it and—

“Wait—”

Oh thank god. She’s quick to drop the chair and turn around.

“Thank you, that would’ve been embarrassing.”

Then it’s Aubrey’s turn to speak. And she’s talking about how she knows she’s been hard on Beca, hard on all of them, and she reveals that the reason for that is her father.

“Like my father always said: when at first you don’t succeed… _pack your bags_.”

Well, shit. That’s harsh.

Beca lets out a sigh, willing herself to walk on over. If they were going to do this today – this whole ‘being emotional’ and ‘apologizing’ thing – they may as well go full force.

“Hey, I get it,” she starts. “My dad gets on me too. I mean, not like that, but uh… I guess we don’t really know that much about each other.”

And that’s true: they don’t. Aubrey hasn’t taken a proper second to get know Beca and truthfully, neither has Beca. So, there’s definitely an area they could have both tried a little harder on.

This opens a door – to getting Beca to talk, to getting all of them to talk. A lot of things come to surface. Like Cynthia Rose’s gambling problem, which… okay, not the confession they were all expecting but it’s a start. Chloe gets a little dramatic when she tells them all that she finally got surgery for her nodes. Then again, she did tell all of them that she was a _‘survivor’_ when they first found out, so they should have expected the hysterics at this point.

They’re all getting to know each other. And it’s… kind of weird but sort of… _cool._ It reminds Beca of why she stuck around even with all of Aubrey’s shit and the tiresome practices. (Other than you know, to keep up the façade that she’s trying for her father. She actually really got into the Bellas at some point even if she doesn’t want to admit that to herself.)

_I thought the season was over._

Chloe _actually_ seems distressed about the ‘nodes’ thing. Stacie puts a hand to her shoulder to soothe her. Then Aubrey is standing, uttering Beca’s name, like this was some big turn-around moment. And she hates to admit this but it _does_ feel like there’s some sort of importance attached to this. Like, she _swears_ she can hear the build-up music and she _knows_ she doesn’t actually – it’s entirely Jesse’s fault for getting her to watch so many movies.

Beca is on her feet, holding Aubrey’s purposeful gaze.

“What do we do?”

Dark blue eyes shift to bring attention to the pitch pipe in Aubrey’s hand before lifting them to meet her face, which has the tall blonde getting the message and tossing the flat circle in her direction.

Which is a _big_ mistake because Beca’s hand-eye coordination is _terrible_.

The thing ends up getting smacked to the side and rolling into the pile of puke on the middle of the floor.

“Maybe not here,” Beca decides.

They move to the pool.

* * *

They sing a spontaneous arrangement of Bruno Mars’ _Just the Way You Are_ (Aubrey’s choice) and Nelly’s _Just a Dream_. And they sound _good_. It’s actually kind of incredible how nice they all sound together – especially when they’re singing something from this century. This is what they _should_ sound like. Not the tired set of the Bellas from eons ago. (That’s an exaggeration but whatever. It’s _old_.)

Beca actually smiles at Aubrey and Aubrey smiles back.

“Hands in,” she’s telling them all a second later.

And for the first time, Beca obeys with no qualms.

They’re on the same page and they have a _chance_. They were going to do something with it.

* * *

  
_You know what, when you’re done being an ass – call me_

  


Beca reads the text one more time before doing just that.

“Took you long enough,” is the first thing she hears from the other end.

Beca smiles to herself before speaking. “Hey. So… I’m done being an ass.”

She hears Stacie snicker quietly on the other end. “You don’t say? Pretty big gesture you had to pull. I was half expecting you to drop dead after you asked Aubrey if you could be let back in.”

“Please don’t remind me,” Beca pleads with shut eyes. Her cheeks already feel warm at the memory.

Stacie laughs softly and Beca allows herself to realize that she misses it. Stacie’s laugh, Stacie’s smile… _Stacie_. She misses being around her and them hanging out. Not because of the sex – not that she doesn’t miss _that_ – but life just isn’t as interesting. She _wants_ to hear random science shit and pretend she hates it when Stacie offers to do her nails.

(Beca’s nails could actually use some TLC now that she thinks about it. Her black nail polish is chipped at certain fingers. Stacie wouldn’t have it if she saw.)

“Where are you?” Stacie breaks the silence.

“I’m in a cab. On my way back to Barden,” Beca answers.

After their little pool sesh, Beca was dragged to Aubrey and Chloe’s shared apartment to brainstorm performance ideas. It took a couple of hours but they finally settled on some potential songs… which they were going to _share_ with the other girls tomorrow at practice since this was a democracy and not a dictatorship and everyone should get a say in their set list. Aubrey’s voice may have sounded strained when she was agreeing but the point is that she agreed. Chloe was pretty happy about it. (In fact, she went as far as to squish her and Aubrey into a little group hug while yelling, “I’m so proud of you guys!” It was terrible. All 5 seconds of it.)

“Meet me where we had Hood Night,” Stacie tells her.

“Okay.”

* * *

When she arrives at said location, the first thing she notices is Stacie – with her pink pants and blue jacket that is really hard to miss with all of the dull cement color around them. She sits on the stage waiting for Beca, her legs dangling off the edge. Beca makes her way down the steps.

“Hey,” she greets once she gets off the final stair.

“Hey yourself.”

Stacie is smiling at her, definitely looking a little too happy to see her. It makes Beca’s cheeks heat up.

“So, uh… how do we, uh… do this?” Beca decides to say, because she doesn’t want to think about how weirdly her body is acting right now with this cheeks-heating-up and heart-beating-fast business. It’s _embarrassing_.

Stacie chuckles before hopping down and striding over to where Beca stands at the center.

“Well. You could do a repeat of what you did earlier today and apologize to me.”

Beca scrunches up her nose at the suggestion. “Eh, I’m not really feeling that?”

“Really?”

“Mhm.”

Stacie’s hands find her shoulders. “Well, you can repeat after me anyway.”

Beca laughs.

“Say: _Stacie_.”

Ugh.

Stacie looks at her pointedly when she doesn’t immediately reiterate. Beca gives Stacie a ‘are we really doing this?’ look, to which Stacie just nods to in reply.

 _Fine_.

Beca shifts her weight from foot to foot, sighing, before she cooperates.

“Stacie,” she echoes, staring anywhere else because she doesn’t think she can do while this maintaining eye contact.

“ _I’m sorry I was a dick_.”

Beca rolls her eyes. “I’m sorry I was a dick.”

“ _You really didn’t deserve that_.”

“You… really didn’t deserve that.”

She gets herself to look at Stacie then instead of looking anywhere else because it’s important. Stacie didn’t deserve any of what she did at all. Stacie has done nothing but constantly try for Beca. And the fact that Stacie _kept_ trying even after a couple of days of total silence from Beca…

“ _I—_ ”

“I love you.”

Stacie blinks then, snapped out of her apology-making.

“I mean, I think I love you. Or I probably do. I don’t know. This actually sounds kind of stupid now that I’m saying it but I think you need to hear it so I’m saying it.”

Stacie just stares at her. Beca wills herself to go on.

“I cried watching Evil Dead because of you. Like not because of fear like, because I _missed_ you. That’s SO fucked up. It makes no sense at all! And I know it’s not like we were actually anything, and this may seem stupid to you because we were just friends doing non-friend things. But I just—you matter. You matter to me. And maybe I don’t love you. Or I do. But just as a friend. And someone who matters to me, I don’t know—“

She’s cut off by the feeling of Stacie’s lips on hers, her fingers holding Beca’s face ever so softly.

When they break apart just the littlest bit, she says, “You’re a fucking idiot and I love you too.”

“Wait, what?”

They speaking so close to each other that their lips brush every time they talk. Stacie moves back all the way but her hands remain holding Beca.

“You seriously think we were just _friends_?” She asks, as if she’s offended by Beca’s lack of awareness.

“I mean… I guess?”

“Beca, I literally wrote ‘I love you’ on your skin like a thousand times. How did you not pick up on that?”

“Wait, you did? I thought you were drawing covalent bonds, or some bonds, whatever– science things.”

Stacie rolls her eyes.

“You need to pay more attention,” she sighs before closing the distance between their lips again, this time hungrier.

Her hands leave Beca’s face, resting on her neck, her waist. It’s like Stacie can’t get enough of her. And it’s not like Beca isn’t into this too – she really is – but she’s definitely more aware things, like the back of her legs bumping into the stone seats and Stacie guiding her to sit down. When Stacie climbs onto her lap, Beca’s hands find her hips like always but then she’s breaking their kiss to speak.

“Wait, why are we doing this here? We live like 5 minutes away.”

“It’s called passion, Beca.”

“It’s called almost-exhibitionism and you’re not fooling anyone.”

Stacie smirks. Then she’s climbing off of Beca’s lap and helping her up.

“You’re no fun,” she says, pouting as she pulls Beca in for a kiss.

“You’re right,” Beca says when they pull away. “…I’m only fun when I’m naked.”

It makes Stacie blink. Beca begins running up the steps then. It takes the taller girl a hot second before she’s running after her.

“I’m gonna get you, Mitchell! You hate cardio!”

“Bite me!”

“I will!”

**Author's Note:**

> well, that's all, folks! holla at me @ bsnows.tumblr.com for stuff and things if you want. thanks for reading!


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